


The Devil in Me

by SamanthaStarbreaker



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Post-Season/Series 04, Season/Series 04 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-02 10:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18809311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaStarbreaker/pseuds/SamanthaStarbreaker
Summary: Chloe had just convinced herself it was okay to love the Devil. She'd just realized that he loved her too. Losing him teaches her to embrace the Devil in herself.She's not the Devil; she's just filling in.COMPLETE!





	1. Lost the Signal

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on what happens after Lucifer leaves for Hell at the end of season 4.
> 
> Credit to my beta readers, they're amazing and talented!
> 
> Chapter title credit: Approaching Nirvana

Detective Chloe Decker was very good at not letting the awful things in life affect her. She could stare down the most gruesome murder scene and not have her composure crack. She'd come to terms with the fact that she was in love with Satan himself, and he'd told her that he loved her too. And he'd left. Retaken his throne to prevent the apocalypse. Now that he was gone, they were both in Hell.   
It didn't take the highest case closure rate in LA to figure out that Chloe was hollow. There was a Devil-shaped hole in her life, and the wound was still bleeding. It had been a month, and yet in every whisper of the breeze she heard his soft voice - _Detective?_ \- calling to her. She filled in his innuendos from memory, because police work didn't feel right without them anymore. She dreamed of his touch at night. Mostly at night, anyway. If sometimes her morning shower took entirely too long, if it sometimes consisted more of devilish fantasy than hygiene, was that really so wrong? Chloe rather thought Lucifer would approve. _Oh, do go on, Detective,_ he'd say. _Show me what you truly desire._

Chloe Decker didn't quite know what she desired these days, other than for everyone to stop treating her like she was broken. The lieutenant only assigned her and Dan the open and shut cases, even though she was one of the best detectives on the force. Ella walked on eggshells around her, and so did everyone else at the precinct. Trixie, at least, knew that she couldn't force her mom to be happy. Chloe was there for her daughter, and to be honest Trixie was the only reason she even got out of bed in the mornings, but her little monkey never tried to make her talk about it. Amenadiel and Linda tried, sometimes, when they brought Charlie over to play. Maze tried too, with the subtlety of a brick. Or a demon. Nothing they tried stopped the pain. Lucifer was missing, and her heart had gone with him.

 

* * *

 

One night after work, while Trixie was with Dan, Chloe went to Lux. She wasn't sure what she wanted, other than to feel like he was still there with her. The place was much slower than she'd ever seen it before, but it was still open. The bouncer let her in as always, and when she sat at the bar, Patrick greeted her with a smile.

"Evening, boss. We were wondering when you'd drop by. What's your poison?"  
She considered it for a moment, then went with what Lucifer would have offered her. "Whiskey, nothing too fancy."  
The bartender laughed. "Boss, you're not gonna break the bank. Mr. Morningstar could drink the whole city under the table and we'd all go home with a generous check. You can live a little, you know?"  
He poured her a glass of top shelf bourbon with a wink, and she took it with her into the elevator. She'd return the glass, of course, but right now she wanted to be alone. Alone and as close to him as possible.

The penthouse was exactly as he'd left it; Chloe didn't know what else she'd expected. His piano, the wall of liquor, and all the shelves of first editions, probably directly from the authors, and of course the balcony. The balcony where her Devil would stand, brooding. Or maybe yelling at his dad, literal actual God. As she thought about it, yelling at God was a good idea. She walked out onto Lucifer's balcony and looked at the expanse of the City of Angels unfolding before her eyes. The whiskey was smooth, and its warmth felt almost comfortable, softening the edges of the jagged void in her life. After half the glass was gone, after her tears ran dry, she whispered out into the night.  
"Are you finally satisfied, you almighty bastard?"  
The sky offered no response.  
"You couldn't stand him being happy for a single moment, could you?" she said, her voice slowly getting louder. "Is that how this works? Defy you once and get cast into Hell forever? Seriously, I want to know" - her voice cracked and lost all its forcefulness - "so that way I can see him again someday."  
If God had an answer for her, she couldn't see it. That pompous, abusive asshole. She walked back inside, trying very carefully to not throw her glass against the wall. It still had to be returned later.

The penthouse was so very Lucifer: at once ancient and new, built for sin and love, full of light and darkness. Chloe ran her hands along the Assyrian stone, wondering how she'd never taken the time to appreciate the duality of this place before. She paused at the entrance to Lucifer's bedroom, hearing his voice as a whisper in her ear. _You'll always be welcome in my bed, Detective,_ he'd have said. She walked up the steps into his most private place. Not that Lucifer had a concept of privacy; his home didn't have a single door in it. And he really needed to put a lock on that elevator. Or he had needed it, while he was still on Earth. It would be the next owner's problem, she supposed. Whoever ended up buying Lux would probably find Old Scratch's apartment tacky and tear it down. The last remnant of Lucifer's presence, replaced with some LA monstrosity. Lucifer didn't really have family on Earth; what was going to happen to all the things he'd left behind? She had half a mind to take his sheets with her, hoping that his scent still lingered. Maybe not the sheets, but she wanted to have some keepsake, some memento of the man she'd always loved. As she sat on the bed, a piece of paper fell from between his pillows. It was an envelope, labeled "Chloe." She opened it and began to read.

 

 

>   
>  _My dearest Chloe,_  
>  _You've taught me so much. I hadn't thought it possible for an old Devil to learn new tricks, but meeting you has forever changed me. Your presence in my life may not have been the reason I came to Earth, but for years now, it's been the reason I stayed. You make it better on Earth than the Silver City, and leaving you is as painful as my Fall, perhaps more. In Heaven, I didn't have love. Your love is precisely why I had to leave, because if I stayed, Hell would overrun the Earth. At least this way you'll live. You must live, Detective. For my sake. Your life is most precious to me, Chloe. As I'm unlikely to return, I would appreciate it if you would hold on to a few things for me in my absence. They'll be in my safe, and the combination is Beatrice's birthday. Live free, Chloe._
> 
> _Yours for eternity,_  
>  _Lucifer Morningstar_

There they were again. She thought she had run out of tears, but apparently she'd kept some in reserve. She knew, of course. Luce wouldn't have left for any other reason. Her devil - her angel - would want nothing more than for her to be safe. Would it have killed him to realize that she was safest with him? Yes, she and her family would live, but that life was much less without him. Chloe shook her head, trying to clear out these thoughts. She shouldn't have come here. And yet, leaving right now wasn't the answer. She had the Devil's last wish to fulfill, but she also couldn't make herself get up. Instead, she lay down, crying, and fell asleep in Lucifer's bed, dreaming of a fallen angel with her heart beating in his hand.

 

* * *

 

Morning came too soon. As light streamed through the penthouse windows, Chloe was embarrassed to be waking up in Lucifer's bedroom rather than her own. God, she was a wreck. She jerked awake - _she was going to be late for work_ \- before two things hit her: today was her day off, and she had a massive hangover. She held her head in her hands, groaned, and looked at the safe. She needed to get home for a shower and breakfast, and before she left, she needed to pick up the things Lucifer had left her. Inside the safe, there were three things with her name on them. A small box, a book, and a manila envelope. Chloe opened the box first - Lucifer's gifts were usually wildly inappropriate, and she wanted it over with - but to her surprise it only contained keys. Dozens of keys, without labels. He couldn't make it easy for her, of course. With no way of knowing what the keys were for, she moved on to the envelope. No, no, this couldn't be right. What? This had to be a joke.

Inside the envelope, organized more neatly than she thought Lucifer would be capable of, were a series of deeds, titles, registrations, and stock certificates, all made out to one Chloe Jane Decker. She was apparently the sole shareholder in a company called Morningstar International Holdings, and she also owned Lux and Lucifer's other properties. He'd even put the insurance on all of his cars in her name. Hold on to a few things for me, he'd said. This wasn't exactly what she had in mind. What was she supposed to do with a nightclub? After a few moments of freaking out, the practical, detective side of her had a suggestion. Lucifer had the nicest shower in California, and a fully stocked kitchen to boot, and it was apparently all hers now. She might as well freak out over a hot meal.

Chloe had known Lucifer was a fancy cook, but that hadn't prepared her for this. The Devil's pantry required a map and a navigator. She was pretty sure a linguist would help too. He'd spoken every language fluently, and his labeling system wasn't designed for mere mortals like herself. She was able to find simple things like eggs, bacon, and bread easily enough, and cooking a hot greasy breakfast felt good. Actually doing something of her own volition felt good. Still, she hadn't expected this from Lucifer. Why, out of all the people he knew, had he left it all to her? Maze would have been a much better choice. She was used to the Lucifer lifestyle, being a demon. She'd have been the right choice, not Chloe. Not the single mom with a preteen daughter, not the cop. How many crimes did Lucifer commit or encourage in this place every night? Most certainly not the straight-laced, responsible adult. Chloe was reasonably sure her idea of fun wasn't in line with her Devil's business principles. She'd have to find a way to get out of this, because it would definitely become a conflict of interest.

A hot shower and one of Lucifer's shirts later, Chloe picked up her glass from the previous night and stepped into the elevator. She was greeted at the bottom by the club staff moving and unpacking boxes. Apparently it was a delivery day. Patrick looked at her with a smile. "Morning, boss! Truck's almost finished. I'm afraid you missed the fun part."  
She handed him the glass and he burst out laughing. "Theo! Drea! Get over here, the boss brought her glass back!"  
Chloe was confused as some of Lucifer's - no, her - employees came over and marveled at the return of the glass. Patrick must have picked up on her facial expression, because he explained himself to her.  
"You know how many glasses Mr. Morningstar returned intact, in five years, Ms. Decker?"  
She suddenly got the joke. "I'm guessing two."  
They all laughed again, louder. "Not a single one. We even tried switching to Plexiglass one week. He couldn't break Plexiglass, right?"  
Chloe knew the answer before Patrick even said it, but she let him finish.  
"It just pissed him off. That guy had a hell of an arm."  
She laughed at the pun, but what really got her was what Theo said in return.  
"He'd be the best pitcher in baseball, you know. He should have played for the Angels."


	2. Now Comes the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, credit to my beta readers, whose input helps me keep writing all this!
> 
> Title credit (and lyrics credit, in the chapter) to Rob Thomas.

Talking with everyone that worked for Lux only took an hour or so; Chloe already knew most of them. Patrick and Abby, the bartenders, she'd met the most, and of course she knew Dominic the bouncer. Theo, Drea, and AJ were the kitchen staff, and she was glad to get to know them. There were dancers and DJs, of course, but they tended to rotate in and out, working on a gig basis. These were the people actually on Lucifer's payroll. Her payroll now, she supposed. The question she wanted to ask - _Why did Lucifer give this all to me?_ \- probably wouldn't go over well, given the fact that they all seemed to like her so much. Instead, she asked Drea to show her around the parts of the building she hadn't seen yet. Just for now, of course. Chloe was a detective, after all; she had to indulge her curiosity a little bit, before she found a better person to handle Lux for her.

As Drea walked her upstairs through all the floors between the club and the penthouse, Chloe asked her, "So, why work for Lucifer?"  
"You're kidding, right? He was the best boss I ever had. This is my only job. How many line cooks can say that, let alone in LA?"  
The detective was surprised. She knew Lucifer paid well, but she didn't know it was _that_ well. "So, good paychecks, what else?"  
"Out of all people, boss, I figured you'd get it. This isn't the first bar I've worked for. But Mr. Morningstar, he was a genuinely good person underneath his whole 'I'm the Devil' schtick. I got dumped by my asshole ex boyfriend, and it was hitting me hard that night, and Mr. Morningstar comes up to me and asks what's wrong. Not like most bosses, where when they ask that they really mean 'Keep it together till you go home, have a breakdown on your own time, peon.’ No, he asks me like he cares. And when I tell him, he grabs a pint of ice cream from the freezer, and we eat it and bitch about awful men, and he helps me with my work the rest of the night. I've only been here a couple of years, but from the grapevine, I hear you're the one to thank."  
Chloe laughed softly. "He always cared, he just didn't like to admit it. That's what made him so infuriating."  
"We're all gonna miss him, but the way he talked about you, I figure things are only gonna get better."  
There were two levels of storage, and Chloe couldn't help but sift through the props, decorations, and furnishings. "There's so much stuff here, Drea, what's it all for?"  
"We did theme nights a lot for a while, but that was a lot of work to organize while also being basically a cop, so the boss stopped doing it."  
That's right. Lucifer basically was a cop, at least for the past few years, and he managed to balance that with running the club. Granted, his morals were dubious, but at the same time, Chloe was determined that she'd join him someday. Maybe Lux was exactly what she needed.  
"How'd that go down, exactly?" the detective asked Drea. "Half of a police precinct suddenly becoming regulars in Lucifer's den of iniquity?"  
Drea doubled over laughing, her dark hair getting all over the place. "We're not becoming a cop bar, if that's what you're worried about. You guys are some of our best customers, plus we get the juicy gossip about the boss."  
She pulled a "Team Deckerstar" T-shirt out of a box and Chloe's face went bright red.  
"No, come on. Where'd you get that? Did Ella give that to you?"  
"Nah, but she gave us the idea. I think it was Pat that actually ordered the shirts. You were the love of the boss's life, you know? We're kinda like a family here, and we all wanted him to have that mushy happy ending."  
Chloe was still beet red, but she understood. Wasn't it odd that Luce had gotten to know everyone at the precinct, but she hadn't done the same for his club? She'd have to fix that imbalance. She looked at Drea with a sly grin (she hoped) and asked, "Got any in a medium?"

 

* * *

 

 After that, everyone had filtered out with waves and grins and "See you tonight, boss" on their lips. It was just Chloe here, and somehow it felt right for her to be here. When had Lux become her happy place? There must have been some point over the past 5 years where she actually had that shift, where she'd started coming here when she needed comfort, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember when. That was fine; when was irrelevant. What mattered was that nobody here had pitied her, or treated her with kid gloves. And somehow, her emotional wound felt less painful here. She was safe in the lair of the Devil.

The club didn't open until 6, so Chloe had some time to figure out what the hell she was going to do with this place. She still had no idea how to run a bar, or a holding company for what was probably a huge amount of illegal activities. She'd have to call Maze; the demon would know what to do with it all. Take it all off her hands. She texted Maze, telling her to meet up at Lux, and poured herself a drink. It's not like she was on duty or anything, and this whole business was giving her the headache of the damned. Another glass of Lucifer's - no, _her_ \- top shelf liquor couldn't hurt. No, it couldn't hurt at all.

Chloe sat in the place that seemed most natural - the piano bench. As she sipped the whiskey, she started humming a tune. Her fingers drifted across the keys, finding that tune on the piano, and adding chords underneath it. It wasn't anything special, she thought, not angelic in the way anyone in this bar would be used to, but that didn't stop her from singing.

 _"When the hour is upon us,_  
_And our beauty surely gone,_  
_No, you will not be forgotten,_  
_No you will not be alone._

 _And when the day has all but ended,_  
_And our echo starts to fade,_  
_No, you will not be alone then,_  
_And you will not be afraid._  
_No, you will not be afraid."_

Chloe sang to the empty room, tears in her eyes, and as her last words, _"no, you will not be alone,"_ echoed into the corners of Lux, a smile brushed across her lips. Just then, she heard the doors opening and called out, "Down here, Maze."  
The person who walked down the stairs wasn't Mazikeen. He looked like a character from a surfing movie, and he also looked confused, like a fish out of water. Chloe rolled her eyes and said, "I'm sorry, but we're closed. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."  
"You're not him."  
"Looking for the Devil? No, I'm sorry, I'm not him. He's" - she paused for a moment - "away right now. I'm Chloe Decker. What can I do for you?"  
"I, uh, really need to talk to Lucifer."  
"He's not available. You can talk to me."  
"Well, Miss Decker, I was hoping to ask him for a favor."

Chloe laughed. Lucifer's network of favors was the part of his life she'd never understood. Even with the knowledge that he was the Devil, she didn't know how it all worked, other than that he tended to resolve favors by calling in other favors. And, based on her interaction with Bashir Al-Fassad, she knew that Lucifer had spoken of her enough that she could call the favors in herself. Maybe, just maybe, she could help this man.

"Well, it'll be much easier if I know your name."  
"I'm Steve. Steve Evans."  
"Okay, Steve Evans," the detective said with a smile, "what can we do for you?"  
"I think I'm wanted for murder."

 

* * *

 

He told her his side of the story, that he'd had a fight with his boyfriend and stormed out. That he'd come back to find the love of his life sprawled out on his kitchen floor, in a pool of blood. That he'd tried to pull the knife out of the wound, and when he heard the sirens, ran.

"Mr. Evans, I can't do you a favor, if by a favor you mean make it all disappear. And I wouldn't want to if I could. But what I can do is this: I promise you that I will find the truth. That's my job, actually. I'm a detective with the LAPD. You're going to have to come with me down to the precinct, and give your statement, but we're going to help."

She looked at his face, torn between an urge to run and an urge to stay. Eventually, reason won the day and he held out his hands in surrender.  
"No handcuffs today, Mister Evans. You're coming willingly, remember?"  
He nodded, confused, and followed her down to the garage. She looked at the row of cars, all of which were hers now, and motioned him into the passenger seat of the black Corvette.  
"Might as well enjoy ourselves on the way, right?"

 

* * *

 

Chloe wasn't sure what set off more of a stir at the precinct: her shirt, her car, or the fact that she was there on her day off bringing a suspect in when she hadn't been assigned a case at all. She also wasn't interested. If this got them to pay attention to her and stop treating her like an invalid, good. If not, she had decided to stop caring. _Live free,_ she whispered to herself. She was a great detective, and she was going to solve a murder, and damn their condescension.

Mr. Evans - Steve - sat across from her in the interrogation room, and she was writing notes in her notebook as he answered her questions.  
"Your boyfriend-"  
"Jackson."  
"Your boyfriend Jackson, did he have any enemies?"  
"No. Nobody that wanted to hurt him, Detective."  
"When did you leave, after you'd had your fight?"  
"Right before rush hour, about 3:30."  
"And how long were you gone?"  
"Till about 7."  
"Do you have anyone that can verify that?"  
"I was at a bar, actually. Mary's, off Delgado. The bartender and cameras should both back me up."  
"Thank you for your cooperation, Steve. You're free to go for now, but don't leave town."  
"Absolutely not, ma'am. Wouldn't dream of it."  
"Good, because I happen to have a friend who's the best bounty hunter on the continent. Please, feel free to call me if you think of any other details. And, Steve?"  
He was walking out the door, but he turned to face her. "Yes, ma'am?"  
"We'll bring justice for whoever did this. No matter who it is," she said with an almost predatory grin on her face, and picked up her notepad.

 


	3. Something Just Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title credit to Coldplay.

Having had a long chewing out from the lieutenant, Chloe had at least managed to catch the case, and she, Dan, and Ella were poring over the scene of the crime. 

"What've we got, Ella?"

The forensic scientist was clearly surprised to see Chloe there, judging by the furtive glances that she kept giving Dan. "Oh, uh, Jackson Jones, 37. He was an insurance broker, living here with his boyfriend Steve Evans. From the pattern of the footprints, we're thinking that he came into the kitchen normally, had a physical struggle with the attacker, and then one or both of them slipped on this" - she held up an evidence bag with a blood-soaked apple in it - "and fell to the floor, where the knife ended up in Jackson's chest."

Dan mimed being stabbed, and Ella laughed with him, and Chloe was tempted to snap at them that this was a murder. It was actually kind of funny, though. Dan's terrible acting was almost endearing, and it wasn't as if their cavalier attitudes were actually hurting anyone. She'd had the most cavalier partner ever, and he usually ended up helping far more than he hurt. "Time of death?"

"From temperature and decay, I'd say between 5 and 7pm."  
"I've already questioned the boyfriend, and he has an alibi for that timeframe. Dan, could you check up on the staff at Mary's, on Delgado? I'm going to ask around at Mr. Jones's workplace, see what his colleagues have to say."  
Dan nodded, and as he followed her out the door, he pulled her aside. "Chlo, can we talk?"  
"Sure, Dan. What's up?"  
"What's up with _you_ , Chloe? You bring in the boyfriend without a case even being open, on your day off, and you can't _tell_ me that's not Lucifer's car you're driving. And the shirt, isn't that ironic of you after the guy ran out on you again?"

  
She didn't know where to even start with this crap. Daniel had always had this annoying habit of acting like he owned her, like he had the right to tell her what she should do, how she should feel, who she should love. Maybe the best way to start would be toying with him. "I can actually tell you that," she said with a smile.  
"What?"  
"That's not Lucifer's car I'm driving."  
"License plate FALL1N1? That's Lucifer's."  
"Check again," Chloe said as she started the car and pulled out of the driveway.

 

* * *

 

Jones's office was a small, open plan space, where the sales people had small desks and big egos. Chloe could tell the moment she walked in that it was a competitive business, because two of the salesmen were fighting each other right in front of her face. She immediately yelled, "LAPD, freeze!" as she ran towards the fight, and everyone in the office did in fact freeze. They stared at her like she'd interrupted something good. Even the manager seemed disappointed when the fight had stopped. "Officer, what's going on here?" he asked in a confused tone of voice. 

"Detective, actually, and isn't that supposed to be my line? What were those two doing?"  
"Oh, it's this month's sales incentive. Every time one of them sells a policy above a quarter million, they get entered into our wrestling tournament, and the winner of the tournament gets a hefty bonus at the end of the month. Jenkins was winning, before you rudely interrupted. So, to repeat myself, what's going on here?"  
"Right. You're all clearly insane. Did any of you happen to notice, while you were wrestling to see who has the biggest _bonus_ , that Jackson Jones didn't show up for work this morning?"

A few laughs broke out from around the office, and the manager said, "Oh, we noticed, alright. We just assumed today was the day he finally quit. He always was a little flaky, couldn't handle the pressure. You know how they get."  
"They?"  
"You know, people like Jones. Sissies. F-"  
Ice in her voice, she said forcefully, "You don't want to finish that thought. He's been murdered, you see, and bigotry is quite a motive." She raised her voice as she looked around the room. "So, where were all of you between 3:30 and 7 last night?"

  
They all came up and offered her their alibis, and she took them down in her notepad. Most of them had one alibi: they'd been drinking together. There was one person who wasn't included in that alibi, and she was also the only woman employed in this delightful enterprise. That, from the manager's words, was probably not a coincidence, so Chloe approached her again.  
"Hey, I'm Detective Chloe Decker, and I'm looking into the murder of Jackson Jones. It sounds like he wasn't very well liked around here. Do you know anyone who would want to hurt him?"  
The dark-haired woman shook her head. She said, "Really, I don't pay much attention to the office drama. I'm just here to work, so I keep my head down, you know?" at the same time as she wrote "Can't talk here, they're listening" on her notepad.  
Chloe saw the writing and nodded. "I completely understand that. I'm sorry to bother you. And by the way, if you do need a drink after work, I happen to own a bar. It's called Lux. You should drop by sometime."

 

* * *

 

At the precinct, Dan and Ella were brainstorming in the forensics lab. Probably doing a little more than brainstorming, Chloe thought. It wasn't as if either of those two were good at keeping secrets. She didn't bother knocking, and they didn't bother noticing, until Ella turned around, saw her standing there, and almost jumped out of her skin.

"Chloe, hi, we were just..."  
"Being adorable? I was wondering when you two had gotten together, but it definitely works."  
Hearing this, Dan walked out of the room, muttering under his breath.  
"So, Ella, any updates on the evidence?" Chloe said softly, after a moment had passed.  
"Well, the knife has three sets of fingerprints. The vic's, his boyfriend's, and one that's definitely not either of theirs, but it's not a full enough print to identify." Ella spun around and grabbed a bag, turning back. "We did find this at the scene, though. It's a synthetic fiber, used for a lot of chemical resistant uniforms."  
"Thanks, Ella. I'll check it out."  
Chloe started to leave, but paused. "And Ella? I'm sorry about fighting with Dan earlier. Our problems shouldn't have to be your problems."  
The forensic scientist gave her a sad sort of smile. "He just cares, Chloe. He's worried about you."

She wasn't so sure about that. She'd married the guy, after all; Chloe knew exactly what Dan caring looked like, and this wasn't it. Of course, he was waiting for her at her desk. She decided to preempt his rant by keeping it strictly work.  
"Dan, did the boyfriend's alibi check?"  
"Yeah. Staff at Mary's all say he didn't leave till almost 7, and there's no way he could have gotten back in traffic."  
"Okay. I talked to everyone at the vic's workplace, and they all seem like bigots, but they've got alibis too. Boyfriend says Jones didn't have any enemies, and the synthetic fiber could mean anything from a janitor to a scientist."  
"Yeah. Maybe a cleaning service? Did he mention having a housekeeper?"  
"No, he didn't, but that doesn't mean there wasn't one."  
"I'll check it out."  
Chloe ran the traffic footage from the intersection near Jones and Evans' house, but nothing stood out. They hadn't had security cameras, and none of the neighbors had reported anything unusual, either. She kept looking through the video, trying to find any clues, until it was time to meet Jackson's last coworker.

 

* * *

 

Everyone at Lux was happy to see Chloe there. They were just about to open up, and she sat at the bar discussing the finer points of club management with Patrick, when Maze sat next to her. "Hey, Decker, when people say to meet them somewhere? Usually they're actually there. Just wanted to let you know."

"Hey, Maze. I'm sorry, work got in the way. There was a murder."  
The demon seemed satisfied with the apology, cheering up after a moment of suspicion. "So. What's up, Decker?"  
"Did you know Lucifer left everything to me?"  
"Not everything. I got all the really fun stuff," Maze said with a longing expression that would have terrified Chloe a few years back. Now, she just laughed. "I don't want to know, do I?"  
"Probably not."  
The two of them sat in peace for a moment before Chloe said, "I thought he'd leave it all to you."  
"You're kidding, right? Did you see the way he always looked at you?"  
Her face flushed a little. "Yeah. I saw."  
Maze grinned at Chloe's embarrassment. "The paperwork's been in your name for a long time now, Decker. Besides, Patrick tells me I don't have 'people skills.'"  
The aforementioned bartender snorted a little, and before long, all three of them were laughing as the night's first customers started coming in.

As Chloe had hoped, the woman from Jones's workplace was among them. She stepped behind the bar and waved her over.  
"I'm glad you decided to stop by after all. It's Briana, right?"  
"Yep, that's me."  
"Alright, Briana, welcome to Lux. Can I get you anything?"  
"I kinda thought when you said 'drop by for a drink' you meant 'come talk about the murder,' Detective."  
Chloe laughed. "I definitely did, but that doesn't mean I can't pour you a drink."  
"Alright, then, I'll take an old fashioned."  
"Great choice," Chloe said as she made two of the cocktails and gestured towards the elevator. "Let's get a little privacy."

The two women rode up to the penthouse, sat on the leather couches, and Chloe got out her notepad. "So, Briana, what was it that you couldn't say at work?"  
"Jackson had a client come to the office last week, angry that his claim was denied."  
"Does that happen often?"  
"Not really. The policies we sell look really good on paper, but they're full of disclaimers and loopholes. A lot of claims get denied, and we get angry calls about it, but almost none of them come into the office."  
"Could you describe him for me?"  
"He was tall, but not too tall. Five eight, maybe?" Blond hair, short, with a bushy mustache like it was the 70s. And yelling."  
"Does your office have cameras?"  
"Yeah, a couple."  
"Thanks for coming forward with all of this, Briana. If you don't mind me asking, why not tell me about this at the office?"

Briana laughed sadly and took another sip of her drink. "I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly one of the good old boys. I try to just keep my head down and collect a check. They wouldn't hesitate to fire me if I brought down any unwanted attention, and I really need the job."  
Chloe frowned. "I can definitely understand that, but that's an awful job to be stuck with."  
"Yeah."  
A thought occurred to the detective, and she couldn't help but grin. "You know, insurance is such a volatile industry. Those sorts of operations go under all the time. Have you ever considered a career in finance?"  
"I'm not sure I follow, Detective Decker."  
"Well, I just recently inherited this business. My partner was a meticulous bookkeeper. The devil was always in the details, you know? I'm not great at the financial side of things myself, and I could use a bookkeeper here at Lux. Would you be interested?"  
"What, you're offering me a job?"  
"I've got a feeling that insurance agency is about to get investigated, and I happen to have an opening, so absolutely."  
"Well, depending on the details, maybe."  
Chloe laughed. "You should talk to Patrick or Drea about it downstairs. I promise, we take care of our people here."  
Briana nodded slowly. "Be seeing you, Detective."  
"Chloe, Briana. Just Chloe."

 


	4. Walk It Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my amazing beta-readers, Bismuthe and sutekinanijinoiro! 
> 
> Title credit: The National

Chloe set up her laptop, brewed a cup of coffee - after she'd figured out how to work Lucifer's imported coffee maker - and set to work filing the warrants for the insurance agency's security cameras. This kind of paperwork always took forever, and while she was waiting, the detective took the opportunity to investigate the last of the three items in Lucifer's safe. It was a book with leather bindings, and Chloe had a suspicion as to its contents. Opening it, she found it was what she'd expected: a list of every favor the Devil had ever given. His network was more extensive than she'd thought, and she'd been guessing large. Yes indeed, this would come in handy. She found exactly the person she needed while perusing the list, and immediately picked up her phone. "Hello, Commissioner! My name is Chloe Decker and I'm calling for my partner, Lucifer Morningstar."

A lively half hour later, Chloe was confident that the shady insurance agency wouldn't last another week. The warrants were still pending as she checked her computer, but that was okay. She'd get justice for Jackson and Steve, and justice was patient. Even if she never caught the person who killed Jones, Luce would get them eventually. For once there was comfort in the idea that Hell was real. The ringing of her phone quickly interrupted her ruminations on Hell and the man running it. Checking the Caller ID, she answered.  
"Hey Dan, what's up?"  
"Hi, mom!"  
"Hey monkey, how was school today?"  
"It was boring. Mrs. Roberts was sick so we had a substitute teacher, and she made us do homework in class."  
"I'm sorry, Trixie, but at least that means you're ahead on your homework! Maybe we can have a movie night when you get back from your dad's."  
"Can we do it tonight?"  
"I don't know, monkey, you'll have to ask your dad if he's okay with it."  
Without as much as a pause, Trixie said, "Dad said yes!"  
"Okay. Can you put him on the phone for me?"  
After a shuffle, Dan picked up. "Hey Chlo, Trixie said you wanted to do a movie night?"  
"I told her we could have one on Friday because she's ahead on her homework. She wanted to do it tonight, and I said that's up to you."  
"You sure you're up to it?"  
"Absolutely. We'll have a blast."  
"Okay. I'll swing by your place and drop her off then, and pick her up from school tomorrow?"  
"Actually, I'm at Lux right now. Could you drop her off here?"  
After a weighted silence, Dan said, "Sure. See you soon," in the flattest voice Chloe had ever heard him use.

Picking out movies for Trixie's movie nights was really a formality. Put the girl in a room with every movie ever made and she'd choose Frozen every time. Chloe didn't mind, though. It made movie nights easy. By the time she'd found it in Lucifer's DVD collection, Dan and Trixie were there, and Trixie was wrapped around her in her usual hug.  
"Hi, mom!"  
She bent down to hug her daughter closer. "Hey, monkey," she said with a smile. "We've got lots of movies on the table; go ahead and pick which one you want to watch."  
As Trixie excitedly ran over to the table, Dan grabbed Chloe's arm. "We need to talk, Chloe," he said, and she gestured to the balcony.

"Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you?"  
"Excuse me?"  
"What's next, Chlo? You gonna go around telling people you're the Devil? Hypnotizing them into confessions?"  
"Seeing as I'm not the Devil, no."  
"I mean, you've been acting just like Lucifer, so why not take it all the way?"  
"Just like Lucifer? I don't think so."  
"Really, Chlo? Because you sure haven't been acting like you. First you were shutting everyone out, and now you're driving fast cars and hanging out in his penthouse."  
She rolled her eyes. "My penthouse, actually."  
"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Chloe! How the hell is it your penthouse, your car, your sudden attitude? Just because your on-again off-again boyfriend ran out on you?"

Chloe was pissed off, more than she'd ever been. Daniel was so far over the line she wasn't sure he knew there was one. It took everything she had not to punch him, and the only reason she even resisted was because Trixie was here. Instead, she settled for shoving him down into one of the chairs. He didn't budge from that spot when he saw her face, and so she decided she'd give him the answers he was looking for.  
"Okay, Dan. You want to talk, let's have a talk. First, I'm your ex-wife, Dan. _Ex_. You do not get to tell me how to live my life, and you most definitely do not get to tell me that I have an 'attitude.' I am not your child, and my moral compass is just fine. Second, you over-muscled, under-brained douchebag of a man, Lucifer did not 'run out'."  
At this, Dan couldn't help but interrupt. "Well then, where is he?"  
Chloe took one more menacing step toward him, and he closed his mouth before she broke once more. "Hell," she said quietly, with tears filling her eyes again. "He's gone to Hell, and everyone except me seems to think he belongs there."  
Daniel's mouth was apparently incapable of closing, and Chloe briefly considered closing it for him, when he answered, "He's dead? Why didn't you tell us?"  
"Because you didn't ask, and because" - the words caught in her throat - "I didn't know what to do without him. He always came back before. No matter where he went, he came back with some absolutely awful plan. What do you do when the person you lo-" Chloe stopped. This wasn't his business, and Dan wouldn't believe the truth anyway. After a moment, she came up with a reasonably true story that didn't spill Lucifer's divine secret.  
"He was going out of the country to work things out for good with his family. For a day or two I thought he'd finally managed to do it. But Amenadiel got word from them that there was an accident. He wasn't coming back."  
Daniel sighed. "So you decided to take over his life."  
"No, Daniel. I'm not taking over his life, I'm living mine. Trying to, anyway. He left it all to me in his will, and I'm trying to make the best of it all."  
"But Chlo, what about our daughter?"  
"The daughter that means more to me than an emotional trump card to win arguments with my ex? The daughter you neglected for _years_? What about any of this makes it seem like I care about Trixie any less?"  
"Well, _he_ never did," Dan shot back.  
Chloe narrowed her eyes. "If you really think that, then you never knew Lucifer _or_ Trixie. I haven't told her yet, about Lucifer being gone, but when I do, she's going to be devastated. And she's going to need her goddamn father." Her voice gave out and she needed a moment to breathe; her glare was sufficient to inform Daniel that they were not done.

After a few deep breaths, Chloe continued softly. "So. With that said, I'm going to order some takeout. Do you want to have some Chinese food and a movie night with our daughter? Or would you prefer another night of drinking alone, another drunk and disorderly report that I have to read even though it gets dismissed with 'professional courtesy'? It's up to you."  
Daniel's face looked like half the murder victims she'd seen. "You know about those?"  
"I'm a detective, Daniel, and a mother. Of course I know about those. Get up, get inside, and act like you're not just an empty shell of the man I used to love."

Their argument and the anger that came with it lasted about one musical number. It's hard to be angry while singing along to a Disney movie. Chloe managed to get just a little bit of normalcy from her life for once. Sitting on the fancy couches, watching a Disney movie with her daughter, enjoying LA's best Chinese takeout, it all felt right. She tried to ignore the void where a fallen angel would have been. Trixie just didn't cuddle up with anyone, and they all enjoyed a nice evening together. Her little monkey wasn't stupid, though. After the movie, Trixie asked, "Mom, why are we in Lucifer's house? Where'd he go?"  
Chloe had a moment of hope that Daniel would field the hard question, but that apparently wasn't going to happen. She steeled herself before she answered.  
"You know how Lucifer likes to take trips?"  
"Yeah, is he on a trip right now?"  
"He was, monkey. He was. And there was an accident."  
She watched her daughter's face freeze, saw the sparkle in Trixie's eyes flicker for a moment. Trixie stuttered for a minute before asking "Is he coming back?"  
Chloe scooped her daughter up into her arms, holding her tight and safe before she answered, "No, monkey. He's not. I'm so sorry, Trix. I'm so sorry."  
After a few moments, she felt another set of arms around the two of them. Daniel didn't say anything, but he was there. Maybe that was enough, at least for now.

 

* * *

 

The night had been a blur after that; Trixie and Chloe had cried until they couldn't cry any more, safe in each other's arms. Daniel had stayed, lending as much support as he could, even cleaning up. Chloe and Trixie had fallen asleep fitfully on Lucifer's bed, and it was a sure bet that there wouldn't be any school for her little monkey today. She got up carefully, making sure not to disturb Trixie. Seeing Daniel fast asleep on the couch warmed Chloe's heart a little; it meant the world that he'd stayed for his daughter. She figured that the best way to get this day started was with breakfast, so she pulled up Google Translate on her phone and took an expedition to the pantry.

The smell of sausage, eggs, and pancakes eventually woke up the other two members of Chloe's family, and before long they were all sitting at the bar eating. Things were surprisingly peaceful from there; the only hitch in the works was convincing Daniel it was okay to use the shower. For the life of her, she didn't understand how the man she'd married became the man before her. He did give in after a fight, though. When everyone was cleaned up and all the appropriate phone calls were made, Chloe asked Trixie, "What do you think we should do today?"  
Trixie didn't know. That was something Chloe understood well; she hadn't known what to do with the news forever. After a few moments spent in a silent hug, Trixie asked a question Chloe hadn't expected. "Can we stay here, Mom?"  
"Sure, Trix. We can stay here as long as you want."  
Trixie nodded, satisfied, and walked down the hallway. Chloe didn't want her daughter getting lost in the labyrinth of Lux's penthouse, so she followed the girl until they both stopped in front of a spare bedroom.  
"This one's mine, Mom," Trixie said, and Chloe couldn't bring herself to tell her daughter no.


	5. Only If You Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to julian plenti for the chapter title, and to my beta reader Edge-sama. 
> 
> TW: Suicide for this chapter.
> 
> Sorry about this one, y'all, but I promise it gets better next time around.

The next three days were both slow and fast for the Decker household. Trixie's off the cuff desire to move into the penthouse had actually been productive for both the Decker women in dealing with their grief. There was something about the process that was inherently therapeutic. They packed their possessions into boxes, picked the ones that still held meaning to keep and discarded the ones that didn't, and gave each one a spot in a new home. This was not at all a metaphor for their emotions. It was, however, almost fun. The two of them made the penthouse less like a memorial and more like a home, and some part of Chloe was far better for it. 

 

Trixie was doing better too. At least, Chloe thought so. It was hard to tell, and mostly she just had to trust her little monkey to talk to her about it. She just had to be there, be available, and help wherever she could. That's all any mother could do, and she was also getting the same thing in return. The two of them leaned on each other for support and were much stronger for it. While this was going on, the warrants from the insurance agency came back one by one, giving Chloe and Daniel many hours of footage and many denied claims to pore over when they returned to work. Trix went back to school after the second day off, and she seemed almost okay. Chloe supposed time would be the only thing to truly heal that wound. She could use time herself. And she'd have it. She just had to catch a killer. 

 

Four hours and three espressos later, she had a picture of the man who'd threatened Jones pulled up. His name and address were in the DMV system. His name was Mark Wychoff. He was upset because the policy Jones had sold him didn't cover an experimental medical procedure to save his wife's life. His health insurer was notoriously bad, so he'd purchased a supplemental plan from Jones years ago, and never tried to use it until last week. Last week, the supplemental policy's exclusion clauses kicked in and Wychoff's preparation and foresight were for nothing. Chloe called Daniel, gave him the address, and got in her car. 

 

* * *

 

"LAPD, open up!" shouted Chloe, knocking on the door. "Mark Wychoff, this is the police! Open up!" Nothing happened, and by the lack of a car in the driveway, Chloe and Daniel surmised he wasn't home. They forced the door open and slowly stepped through the house, clearing each room as they passed it. Nobody was home, and the house was a disaster. Empty cans and bottles littered the floor; the kitchen was full of takeout boxes and discarded liquor bottles; and the computer in the bedroom was similarly surrounded. Who lived like this? Chloe looked around to see if there were signs of any human presence besides Wychoff's. She wiggled the mouse to wake the computer up, and surprisingly Wychoff hadn't had the presence of mind to set a password.  

 

An office directory for the local HMO greeted Chloe as the computer started, and her heart sank. She clicked the next tab over, and it was a map to their LA office. Wychoff wasn't finished. His revenge spree was going to keep going if she and Daniel didn't stop him. She yelled, "Daniel! He's headed for the Kaiser building!" The two of them booked it for their vehicles while Chloe called dispatch for backup. They were at least ten minutes behind him, but officers from other precincts might be able to beat Wychoff there. Chloe gunned it, weaving through traffic with her siren on. And hadn't she explicitly told Lucifer he couldn't have a siren installed in the Corvette? Yet again she found herself thankful for her partner's casual, lackadaisical approach to life. The Morningstar approach was definitely a good thing, she decided. Hopefully it'd get her there in time to stop Wychoff from killing again. 

 

* * *

 

Chloe was the first on the scene, but the uniformed officers were right behind her. She had them cordon off the building; Wychoff wouldn't be getting away this time. When Chloe showed his picture to the receptionist, he pointed her to the third floor. She ran up the stairs, showing her badge to terrified bystanders and waving them down the stairs behind her. There was a loud argument in an office nearby, and she walked up quietly. Wychoff had a gun and was pointing it at a woman in a suit, who was pleading for her life. "Please, I have kids!" 

Wychoff yelled at her. "We all had families. You took mine." 

This was a perfect moment for Chloe to interrupt. "LAPD, Mr. Wychoff. Drop your gun." 

He turned around lightning-quick, pulling the woman in front of him and holding his gun to her head. "Don't move or she dies." 

Chloe turned to her and said, "It's all going to be okay, ma'am. We're going to get you out of this." 

Wychoff interrupted, "Nobody's getting out of this, cop. Nobody."  

She tried to display calm with him. "You don't have to make this any worse, Mr. Wychoff. You don't want to be responsible for multiple murders. Turn yourself in and you can end all this." 

"Like it ended for Diana? With some goddamned paper pusher deciding when my life isn't worth it anymore? I think I'll pass." 

"I know what you feel like, Mark. But this won't bring her back." 

"No, cop, you don't know what I feel like. I lost the love of my life, because she was  _taken_  from me. You can't even start to know what I feel like." 

She found her way in. "My name's Chloe. The man I loved was named Lucifer, and he was taken from me too. It's changed me." 

"Yeah. It does change you." 

"The thing is, Mark, you have to ask yourself, if Diana were still here, would she be able to stomach what you've done in her name? Would she look at this trail of violence and recognize the man she loved?" 

His shell of confidence broke. "No. She wouldn't." 

Chloe sighed in relief. "You can still end this without more violence. You can let her go and turn yourself in. Loss changes you, but it doesn't have to be a bad change." 

Mark nodded. "Yeah, you're right. She wouldn't love me anymore." As he said those words, he let his frightened hostage go, moving the gun to point at his own face, and pulled the trigger. 

 

* * *

 

This was the part of the job that really got to Chloe. The cleanup after a messy case always made her question if it was worth it at all. These days, it was a different sort of questioning. Before Lucifer had completely unraveled her world things were different.  _Was that justice? Did Mark get what he deserved there? Will Steve Evans get the closure he needs from all of this?_ These were the questions Chloe would have asked just two years ago, but they were overshadowed by something else entirely. She now knew for a fact that Mark Wychoff was in Hell, and she'd helped put him there. 

 

 Luce had told her that a soul's resting place is determined by their own guilt, and she knew Wychoff had felt guilty. He'd taken his own life from that guilt, and Chloe's words had been the last straw in that decision. She'd punched his ticket to Hell. Was she allowed to do that? Hell wasn't exactly a fair system. There wasn't any parole, any chance for improvement, any release on good behavior. It was the most permanent possible punishment, and she'd been condemning people to it for years without knowing. Could she continue to do it now that she knew? 

 

There was procedure in cases like this. Chloe was suspended for 2 weeks, with pay, while the suspect's death was investigated, and she had mandatory sessions with the department psychiatrist. Everything was put on hold while they checked to see if Detective Chloe Decker, LAPD, was malfunctioning. Lots of cops broke; this was the kind of thing that broke them. Chloe didn't even know if she was broken. Rather than protest, she handed in her badge and gun and went home to Lux. Walking up to the bar, she selected a bottle of expensive whiskey and a glass and began to pour. 

 

"Morning, boss," Patrick said. As he noticed her grabbing herself liquor, he asked, "Celebrating or processing?" 

"Definitely not celebrating." 

"Wanna talk about it?" 

"Sure. Why not. Let's start with the fact that I don't know if I can be responsible for another person's death." 

"Wow. That's, uh, that's a little deeper than my wheelhouse goes." 

"Yeah. No shit, Patrick. It's deeper than mine, and I've been doing it for years." 

"Well, boss, every deep problem has to start somewhere. What started you working for the police?" 

"I wanted to help people. To make a difference." 

"Is that still what you want?" 

"Yes, Patrick, it is. I just don't know how." 

"Seems to me there's lots of ways to help people, lots of ways to make a difference, that don't involve pulling the trigger. Take Mr. Morningstar for instance. People asked him for help to reach their dreams, and he'd almost always do it for them. Just a favor here and a recommendation there, enough to push the scale." 

"He also committed about 4 felonies a week." 

Patrick laughed. "Yeah, boss, but it's not like you were ever actually going to book him." 

"No, I wasn't." 

"Because he helped." 

 

Chloe smiled. Patrick had a point. Half of LA probably owed their success to Lucifer in some way, and there was no possible way to say that he didn't make a difference for the better. Everything that was his was hers now, and she could certainly use it for good. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't go back after her two weeks. And maybe that would be a good thing. 


	6. All My Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Complete at last. 
> 
> Title and lyrics in the chapter are from "All My Days" by Alexi Murdoch. 
> 
> Thanks so much to my beta reader Edge-sama, and thanks to all of you! Writing this has been an absolute pleasure, and I'm happy to know that so many of you enjoyed it!

TEN YEARS LATER 

 

Lucifer Morningstar brushed the ash off his suit, watching it fall and mingle with the bright California sand. Oh, he'd truly missed Los Angeles. Had the city missed him, he wondered? Had the Detective? He'd certainly been missing her. The real hell wasn't the throne he ruled, or the eternal torture of the damned. No, to Lucifer, the real hell was hearing Chloe Decker say she loved him, knowing that he loved her too, and leaving. He'd spent a millennium below, taking care of his kingdom, but every moment of it he'd been thinking of her. Here on Earth, he hoped it hadn't been as many centuries, but still all he wanted was for Chloe to be happy. Part of him almost wished to see her having moved on to find happiness with someone else. Certainly that would be the safe and logical option for her. He was still the Devil, however. A little selfishness came with the territory, and Lucifer was determined to at least go see her. A grin spread across his face and he walked with gusto from the beach to the street. A newspaper lay on a bench nearby, and he picked it up. Ten years had passed. Many, many things would have happened in the decade he'd been gone, and he wanted to prepare. Lucifer needed to start by grabbing a copious drink, and he knew just the place.  

It was still called Lux. Lucifer was impressed; whoever the Detective had gotten to run the place must have had taste. Queues weren't his style – he wasn't  _actually_  British – so he walked right up to the bouncers, skipping the line entirely. Unfortunately they weren't the same bouncers he'd employed, so they didn't recognise him. "You on the list?" a burly man asked him, moving to block his path.   
Lucifer snorted in laughter. "If not, I bloody well should be. I used to own the place." 

"Name?" 

For a second, Lucifer considered pulling a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket, but he realised his jacket was empty. "Lucifer," he said matter-of-factly, "Morningstar."   
The bouncer checked his list and waved Lucifer through into the place that had once been his home. The sensations washed over him; the music, the lights, the people. There really was no place like home. He wove his way through the crowd, intending to get a drink from the bar, when the music faded down and he heard someone start playing the piano. Whoever the Detective had hired, they truly understood the spirit of Lux. Lucifer changed his course, heading instead to the front of the crowd that had begun to gather around the piano, as a voice he'd heard every moment of his time in Hell started to sing.   
   
_"Oh, I have been searching, all of my days,_    
_All of my days._    
_Many a road you know I've been walking on,_    
 _All of my days._    
_And I'm trying to find_    
_What's been in my mind_    
_As the days keep turning into night."_    
   
Hearing Chloe play and sing twisted something in Lucifer's heart, and he quickly decided it was a good twist. He reached the front of the crowd, watching intently as the detective played. She looked up from the keys of the piano at her audience, and when her eyes met his, they widened instantly in shock. She smiled at him, didn't look away, and kept singing – this time to him.   
   
_"I have been standing, quiet in the shade,_    
_All of my days._    
_Watch the sky break on the promises we made,_    
_All of this rain._    
_And I'm trying to find_    
_What's been in my mind_    
_As the days keep turning into night."_   

As the detective launched into a piano solo, Lucifer couldn't help but smile. She tilted her head, gesturing for him to sit next to her. Chloe Decker was the only person who could boss the Devil around, and this time was no exception. He sat next to his detective, and she let her piano solo flow into his hands seamlessly. As always, the Devil added his own flair to the song, inserting bluesy chords and jazz transitions. He tilted the microphone towards himself before singing back to her.  

_"_ _Well many a night I found myself with no friends standing near,_    
_All of my days_    
_I cried aloud;_ _I shook my hands; w_ _hat am I doing here?_    
_All of these days_    
_For I look around me_    
 _And my eyes confound me_    
 _And it's just too bright_    
_As the days keep turning into night."_    
   
The two laughed, as the crowd looked at them dumbfounded. They'd never seen anyone share this stage before, and seeing Chloe Decker flirting was even more unusual. Lucifer bumped his shoulder into Chloe's before they both finished the song together.   
   
_"Now I see clearly i_ _t's you I'm looking for_    
_All of my days_    
_Soon I'll smile;_ _I know I'll feel this loneliness no more_    
_All of my days_    
_For I look around me_    
_And it seems you've found me_    
_And it's coming into sight_    
_As the days keep turning into night."_    
   
Lucifer turned to Chloe, sang the last lines, and she repeated them back to him,   
_"And even breathing feels alright,"_    
_"Yes, even breathing feels alright,"_  

before they both softly sang,   
_"As the days keep turning into night."_    
   
Chloe waved to the DJ and the usual club music came back on, even louder than before. The Devil found himself dragged by the wrist to the elevator, which now apparently required a code be entered if one were to use it. He started to speak, and the detective just stared at him, intimidating him into silence. As the doors opened, he barely recognised the place. His couches were still there, and his library; nobody had removed or added any walls, but this was definitely not his penthouse. Artworks he'd never seen before hung on the Assyrian stone walls, and his private bar had been filled with knick-knacks instead of the top shelf liquors he'd left. The piano was right where he'd left it, but Chloe was definitely leading him to the couch. He sat, and she left. This was not what he'd expected; as he looked around the room, he noticed a crude drawing that had been framed, sitting on his shelf. He immediately recognised the style as that of Beatrice Decker. Did the Detective and her spawn live here? He hadn't quite expected this when he left everything to her, but he had to say. Lucifer liked what she'd done with the place. It definitely seemed more like a home in her hands. While he was appreciating Chloe's decorating skills, she returned with a large bottle of bourbon and two glasses. She poured both of them a rather generous portion, proceeded to immediately down hers, and poured herself a second one before she spoke.    
"Lucifer."   
"Yes, Detective?"   
She laughed, but the Devil knew the look in those eyes. She was already compartmentalizing this, already writing off everything she was seeing. "I never know what to do with this. I love these dreams, but as soon as I wake up you'll be gone again."  
He sipped his whiskey sadly. "Not unless you want me to be. I'm not going to leave you unless that's your desire."   
"It wasn't my desire ten years ago, and it's not my desire now. But I have to wake up sometime."   
"Chloe, my dearest Chloe, you aren't asleep. I'm here with you, on Earth."   
She smiled. "Are you?" 

He reached out to hold her hand. "I'm not leaving. Unless you tell me to. Are you going to tell me to?" 

Chloe shook her head and decided to sit next to her fallen angel. 

 

* * *

 

Bea Decker was nervous as hell. This was going to be the first time she'd brought Kate home, the first time her mom met her girlfriend. Whether it was good or bad, it was bound to be spectacular. Spring break had just started, and she'd been living at school all semester, so when Kate had asked to come back to LA with her, she'd freaked. What would she think of the fact that Bea and her mom lived on the top floor of a club? What would her mom think of inviting Kate to stay with them for a week without asking? A million questions ran through her head, and she calmed them the way she usually did. She ran through the orbital parameters of every major body in the solar system mentally, focusing on the numbers until she was calm again. And precisely at that moment, Kate had to ruin it.   
"I can't believe your mom's actually Devilish Decker." 

Bea sighed, with her hands covering her face. "Kate, you have to promise me you won't call her that. She absolutely hates being called that."   
"Why? It's a hell of a nickname." Kate even had the audacity to wink at her.   
"You're absolutely incorrigble, Katherine."   
"And you love it, Beatrice." 

Bea had to admit, she did. And while her mom tended to kick anyone who called her that out of the club, Kate would probably get slack for being her daughter's girlfriend. Probably. Hopefully. She wove past the bouncers and the crowds with practiced grace, Kate being dragged by the wrist behind her, and punched in the elevator code for her house. 

 

The sight that greeted her was certainly unexpected. Her mother was asleep on the couch, snuggled against Lucifer's wings. Wait. Lucifer?  _Wings?_   ** _Lucifer?_**  He was dead. He'd been dead since she was twelve. And he didn't have wings. She had thought the crazy part of her life was over. Apparently it took actually having a serious relationship for everything to get fucked up again. This was just fantastic. Kate snorted in laughter. "Your mom's into cosplayers, huh?"   
Bea was all the way to Ceres before she responded, "Yeah. Something like that. Here, let me show you my room." She picked up Kate's bag and showed her to her room and the shower, let her get unpacked, and stormed into the living room with hellfire in her eyes.   
 

* * *

  
   
Lucifer woke up to the pleasant feeling of a fist connecting with his stomach at high speed. He turned to glare hellfire at his assailant, and was surprised to see that the person had punched him was a tall, dark haired woman with a look on her face that would kill him were he mortal. He was even more surprised that the woman was definitely Beatrice. He shifted in the couch, causing Chloe to stir, and asked Beatrice, "Spawn? Why did you attack me?"   
"Why?" she fumed. "Why?! How about we start with you running off and pretending to be dead for a whole Goddamn decade?"   
"Now, let's not bring my Father into this. And I most certainly was not pretending to be dead. I was in Hell."   
The urchin groaned. "Right. You're the Devil. The literal actual Devil. Oh, my therapist is going to have a field day. Do you even  _know_  how long people just assumed I was crazy? I'd stopped believing in you for a good solid five years and things were just fine." 

Chloe, awake and aware at this point, watched her daughter argue with Lucifer. She'd woken up, and he was still here. Fighting with Bea, no less. She stepped between the two of them and said, "No. No fighting, no arguing, not yet. Bea, I never told you because I thought it was better for you to not have all the celestial drama in your life. I never thought Lucifer was going to actually come back. And you, Satan, have some explaining to do. What the hell are you doing here?"   
He folded his wings away primly and sat back down. "I managed to get Hell to the point where my presence is no longer required for the day to day running of the place. I figured out that the secret is politics."   
Bea scoffed. "Politics?"   
"Yes, Beatrice. As you can imagine, Hell is absolutely full of politicians. I had chats with several of the famous leaders to find out how they ran things when they were in charge, and it came to me. I simply needed to design a political system where absolutely nothing would ever get done, but the demons thought they still had order and authority."   
"So what'd you do?"   
"I let America's founding fathers out of their cells to teach them about the Constitution."   
Chloe laughed. "You gave demons democracy?"   
"Absolutely not. That would be a mess too big for even me. No, I gave them a Congress."   
Bea had to join in the laughter. She doubled over, and it took her a minute to recover to the point where she could point at Lucifer accusingly and say, "I'm still mad at you."   
He got up, sat next to her, and hugged her. "I know."   
 

Another woman walked into the room, long brown hair tied in a ponytail, and looked at the three of them curiously. "Hi. I'm Kate, Bea's girlfriend. You must be Devilish Chloe Decker," she said as she stretched her hand towards Chloe's for a handshake. Chloe sighed, and Lucifer looked at her with an expression of pure delight on his face. "Devilish?"   
Chloe shook Kate's hand. "I'm not the Devil, Kate. This is the devil" - she put her arm around Lucifer and drew him in for a hug - "and I've just been filling in for him. Did Bea already give you the tour?"   
Kate shook her head. "Nope, just her room and the bathroom." 

"Okay, then," Chloe said with a smile. "Luce, you tag along. I'm sure you want to see all the changes too. Bea, you coming with?"   
Beatrice looked up and grinned. "Yeah, alright. Wait until you see what I did with your movie collection, Beelzebub," she said, reaching up to ruffle Lucifer's hair.    
As the four of them left the living room, Lucifer felt something his heart hadn't felt in millennia. He was the Devil, and he was home. 


End file.
